


Once More To The Lake

by Piehead



Series: Sunshine In Small Doses [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Kent and Bitty are siblings, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Canon compliant until Epikegster, Gen, Kent loves Bitty with all his heart and more, M/M, Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, protective kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piehead/pseuds/Piehead
Summary: When he was five, Kent Parson had a little brother. A week later, he suddenly didn't. Twenty years, a heartbreak and drafting later, he does again.And he never stopped loving his ray of sunshine.





	1. Fated

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness me. I seem a bit all over the place, don't I? Don't mind me, loves, I'm just a humble fan indulging one of his good friends. This is for you, Jes.
> 
> Also, the title was taken from E.B. White's "Once More To the Lake", because I had a few friends in high school who had to do an essay on the passage of time in the story, which flashed back to the past and present regularly.
> 
> Spoiler alert maybe?

Kent took one look at his little brother and fell in love.

Now, the context of this may seem a bit odd, but this is a story about brotherly and romantic love, and how it can change people, and how some bonds are stronger than time itself. There are few relationships that can be rekindled after two people have been split apart, Kent finds out later on in his life. But there’s one that’s always going to be a constant for him, one that withstands the passage of time.

*~*~*

Kent was only five years old when he first laid eyes on his little brother, the ray of sunshine that was Eric Parson. He was so tiny, small enough to fit into one of is daddy’s hands even though he filled Kent’s arms more than enough. He was a newborn and when his mommy had him Kent had wanted to hold him. The moment Kent was allowed to see him, to look at Eric’s tiny baby face, he was absolutely enamored and in love.

“I have to protect him,” Kent whispered, barely loud enough for his parents to hear. They didn’t have the heart to tell him that they would only have Eric barely a week.

It was such a wonderful week, too, in the hospital with Eric and Kent and their parents, Kent staying by Eric’s side as often and as much as he was allowed. When he wasn’t sleeping or eating he was talking animatedly to Eric, who would smile occasionally (his mommy didn’t have the heart to tell him that Eric was smiling because of gas, either), which made Kent’s face light up every single time.

Understand, Kent was a young boy, excited to have a brother all of a sudden. After all, being an only child was hard when he never had anyone to play with or watch over. He was alone a lot of the time because his parents moved around a lot. They were driving up from Florida to Canada because his mommy couldn’t go on planes since she was pregnant, but she had gone into labor  _ much _ earlier than any of them had expected and they had to stop off in Madison, Georgia for her to give birth.

Kent couldn’t understand, as such a small child, that Eric was too little, that he needed to stay in the hospital for longer, that they needed to keep moving up to make a deadline or they would lose their new house and Victor Parson would lose his job and all they would have was the clothes in their suitcases and the car.

It was a hard decision but they couldn’t take Eric with them.

They got the deadline for needing to be in Montreal extended just enough to ensure that someone  _ else _ could take in and love Eric. The Bittles absolutely adored him from the minute they laid eyes on him. Suzanne and Richard Bittle were more than happy to fill out the necessary paperwork to adopt the newly born Eric, a premature baby boy who couldn’t be taken out of the hospital just yet.

Kent didn’t understand after that. Eric was so small, and wonderful, and amazing, and perfect, so why couldn’t they take him with them? Why did Eric have to stay in Georgia without him? In Kent’s mind, he could only see worst case scenarios in his mind. His parents didn’t wouldn’t tell him where Eric was, so he spent his days hoping the Stork would bring Eric back to them, like in some of the stories he had read.

It wasn’t until he was ten years old that his parents finally told him about where Eric was, why they had to leave him. He understands what they’re saying, which is why they told him, but he’s still upset because Eric was his little brother, the center of his world at the time, and his mom and dad left him behind in Georgia. He didn’t entirely forgive them for that.

He spent a whole year trying to run away to Georgia, to find Eric and whisk him away to be with his family like he was supposed to.

It was when he was twelve that things started to make sense to him. He googled articles on premature babies and how they could be affected by sudden moves from a hospital, how they couldn’t really be taken anywhere in their first few months of life. He learned that his parents made the decision for them; for Kent and for Eric and it was the only way to make sure both of them had a good upbringing.

Kent had never entirely forgave his parents for giving up his baby brother. But his understanding helped him to grow, and to finally move forward, and to stop asking about his brother. Kent would find him when they were older and he could do so safely, on his own. He would reunite with his brother eventually, one way or another, and no one would be able to come between him and his mission.

And then Jack Zimmermann came along.

*~*~*

Jack was a phenomenal hockey player. Absolutely amazing, one of the best, Kent would never, ever deny that. There was something between them, on and off the ice, and whenever Kent played with Jack he felt a spark of fire fly through him, the kind that felt good and made him feel amazing, like he was soaring. He was convinced Jack was his other half, the two of them so close that Kent  _ almost _ forgot why he worked so hard in hockey in the first place.

He knew Jack wasn’t his reason. He knew Jack didn’t feel the exact same way about him, because it was hard for Jack to display emotions and he knew they weren’t really  _ close _ ; there was no emotional intimacy like there was physical. Jack didn’t open up to him, he never said anything when Kent blurted out a love confession during their perfect summer.

It was just physical for Jack, and it hurt so badly to think about that fact that when Jack shut him out after his OD, Kent took it as a sign that he was never meant to be in love with someone. He was meant to be a big brother, to stand at his little brother’s side and to protect him for ever and ever because that’s what he promised to do. He wasn’t meant for  _ love _ if it wasn’t his devotion to Eric.

He signed with the Aces after Jack cut him out. It was one of the best decisions he ever made, but it took him so far from where he needed to be, so far from Georgia and Eric and he just couldn’t believe he was putting so much distance between them just to be able to find his little brother. He needed the money to be able to, to hire a detective that could track down Eric in Georgia and bring him to Kent.

That’s all that mattered, finding Eric. Kent wished he could have known that fate had plans for him, Jack, and Eric.

*~*~*

He was being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. They had a game the following night, in Providence, he shouldn’t have just decided so recklessly to go to Samwell to see Jack when he knew they just weren’t meant to be together. Kent was being such an idiot, he  _ knew _ how things were going to end, and yet he couldn’t get his head out of the past. No point when he was trapped in it looking for Eric.

He hadn’t realized how suddenly his search would come to an end.

“You’re Kent Parson!” the small, excitable blond smiled, kind, open. Large brown eyes that could’ve been hazel in the proper light. Just like his father’s. Kent had his father’s seemingly colour changing eyes.

“Yeah, you are…?” Kent was being polite, reaching a hand out to take the blond’s own, shaking it. Firm, handshake, but small, soft hands. Everything about the kid screamed small, like he was born too early and never really grew too big.

“Eric Bittle, a friend of Jack’s.”

It was like a punch to the gut and winning the lottery at the same time. Kent was staring at him, at his little brother, it had to be. They looked so alike, like they could be  _ brothers _ , and even though Eric grew up in a completely separate  _ country _ from Kent he knew a Parson when he laid eyes on one, and Eric Bittle was one. He had the iconic Parson blond hair, colour shifting eyes (no matter how slight), and smile. Kent felt like his ray of sunshine was back.

“Mr. Parson?”

Kent was pulled out of his head by that southern voice, so wonderful, so worried. Kent put on a half smirk and pulled his hand back, stuffing it in his pocket and leaning against the wall. He had, for the most part, forgotten about Jack because he had finally found his  _ goal _ , the very endgame he worked so hard for.

“Kent’s fine,” he shrugged, because it was, it was so fine and he wanted Eric to call him by his name, to call him big brother, to be comfortable around him and to trust him.

“Oh, well, Kent--” Eric looked a little confused, possibly a bit distressed to have the sudden attention on him. “I thought you wanted to talk to Jack?”

Right, right, Jack. Jack is still here, Jack is watching him, caution in his eyes but mostly annoyance, possibly even irritation. Jack doesn’t want him here, but Kent has missed Jack, he’s missed him like a lover does, but that’s pushed so far back in Kent’s mind, so far because Eric is right there, he’s right in front of him, god he wants to be by Eric’s side again.

“Jack I’m, uh,” Kent has nothing to say for once. He can usually hold a conversation on his own with Jack, but at the moment he can’t find words because Eric is standing in front of him, his mind keeps coming back to Eric, Eric,  _ Eric _ . His baby brother.

“I’ll call. I have to go but I’ll call,” Kent says suddenly. Jack still looks annoyed, but the relief is clearly flooding his features when Kent says that he has to leave.

“Wait! Can I get a picture? Real quick? It’s not everyday you meet Kent Parson,” Eric smiles. And Kent is just… completely gone. Because he wants to protect that smile, and he feels like shit because Eric  _ should _ have met him everyday, seen him every morning and every night and spent too many years crawling into bed next to his big brother to sleep next to him because he was afraid of monsters and followed behind Kent for years and let Kent just devote his life to protecting Eric, because Eric is his little brother and he loves him so much.

Kent lets Eric take a picture, and then snaps one himself, telling Eric it’s just to be able to remember his fans, especially friends of Jack. It’s a lie he tells because he needs Jack to believe he was here for him and he wants to see what he can do about moving closer to spend more time at Samwell, because he needs to be at Eric’s side from then on.

It’s in the car when Kent remembers that he came to Samwell to see  _ Jack _ , to talk to Jack, to tell Jack he missed him and that he wants to be with him again, but all of that is suddenly shelved because Samwell is where Eric is. For once he manages to take his mind off of Jack and “Where did  _ Iweheeverything  _ go wrong?” to remember his first priority and objective.

Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! Feedback is much appreciated!
> 
> ~Piehead


	2. A Coin Has Two Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We study one side a little more before flipping to the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still for you, Jes! You didn't know but while we were talking I was writing.

Kent was the type of guy that worked hard to be the best. He could be relentless at times, he knew, and sometimes people saw him as being kind of distant and cold. But when people got to know him, when they saw him open up, they found a passionate young man with a heart of gold, always there to defend teammates from even the toughest of folks, practically mother-henning some and never taking his own advice. He was a better guy than people have him credit for. He just hadn’t always done the right thing in the past.

After his “falling out” (if it could even be called that) with Jack, Kent was… pushy. He did some things he isn’t proud of, said some stuff he really shouldn’t have when Jack shut him out. He was wrong for all of it and he regretted the fact that he was that person. But he knew he couldn’t keep  _ being _ that person, and seeing Eric for the first time in twenty years had reminded him that he was never meant to  _ be _ like that. He was meant to be loving, kind, compassionate, understanding, for his little brother. And he needed to be.

There was no doubt in Kent’s mind that someone was going to tell Eric that he wasn’t a good person. He knew Jack was going to say something too, because that’s how Jack was. He wouldn’t slander Kent’s name, but there were likely going to be very few pleasant words.

He was off to a clipped start with Eric and that made him feel horrid. He never wanted to be a villain to his little brother, his ray of sunshine, and yet here he was.

The past couldn’t be changed.

*~*~*

When Kent was six years old, he started having a horrible nightmare. He dreamed that he was back in the hospital, sitting over his little baby brother, and he didn’t understand immediately at the time, but in the dream he would reach for his little brother and he would suddenly disappear, completely gone from Kent’s sight. His parents would move around the room as if Eric were still there, but Kent was the only one who could see he was gone. Kent would cry and beg his parents to believe him, to believe that little Eric wasn’t there anymore, but they would ignore him, and it was the worst dream Kent ever had.

He would have the dream on the same day every year, some aspect of it changing as he got older and more mature. One year his mother snapped at him in his dream, telling him to be quiet or it would be his fault Eric was gone. Another year he saw Eric snatched up by some dark figure, his parents smiling as they watched him be taken away.

In the recent years, maybe since he was eighteen or nineteen, all he would hear in the room was a long, single, solitary ‘beep’, which he knew represented the flatline of a monitor connected to Eric, who would be unmoving. His parents wouldn’t speak. Time seemed to stop. Kent would start hyperventilating, tears springing to his eyes as he watched a doctor come in and wordlessly take Eric away, never to be seen again.

It was the worst scenario of them all. Kent knew it had only started to surface in his mind after Jack’s overdose, fear easily slipping into his thoughts when everyone believed Jack was gone for a few minutes.

But in December of 2014, right after Kent went to see Jack and saw Eric, he had the dream again. It was so unusual and it had terrified him a bit; after all, he usually only ever had that dream on May 5th and he’d already dealt with it for the year. He recognized the hospital room as soon as he closed his eyes and had hit REM sleep. His panic skyrocketed as he realized he was being forced to endure the dream again, only it slowly dawned on him that this dream was different.

The flatline of the monitor was still sounding in the room and the incubator Eric was typically kept in was already empty. There was nothing for the heart rate monitor to be connected to, so of course it would record there being no heartbeat.

Kent looked around the hospital room, before a pair of arms came from behind him and wrapped around him, the body of someone shorter than him pressing close, embracing him. Kent felt overwhelming warmth, and the ceiling of the hospital room seemed to disappear as pure sunlight filtered into the room.

“You found me,” a voice tinged with a southern accent said, and Kent went to turn around when―

His alarm went off.

Kent was jolted so quickly from sleep that the dream dissipated almost immediately, though it lingered in his mind. It was so different from what he was used to the dream being, so much more than it had ever been.

That night, if he played harder and more determined than ever, as if someone would have turned on the game for Eric to see, thinking in his mind that his little brother was cheering him on like he had always hoped, well. No one needed to know but him.

*~*~*

In Eric’s mind, people were allowed the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t understand Jack and Kent Parson’s relationship, there was no way he could of course, especially since it wasn’t any of his business. But he was worried about Jack when Jack disappeared from the party after Kent left, presumably to head up to his room and… do whatever Jack did when he wasn’t at the Haus parties.

Eric would deny going up after he was gone, he would deny knocking on the door to find Jack sitting with his head in his hands, he would deny sitting next to Jack and wrapping his arms around him and just sitting with his Captain in the silence of the room, the music loud from downstairs and true concern on his face as he leaned his forehead against Jack’s shoulder. He would say he didn’t ask Jack what was wrong after a while, and he would say the following conversation didn’t happen;

“There must have been a lot between you two,” he wouldn’t have said.

“It’s complicated,” Jack wouldn’t have replied.

“I won’t ask about it.” Eric wouldn’t say he was trying to help. “But whatever happened between you two…”

He would say he didn’t trail off, implying that Jack was a better man now and that things were in the past, and that he didn’t have to reply if he didn’t want to. He would say he didn’t give Jack the out he needed because he never went to Jack’s room.

“Thank you,” Jack wouldn’t have mumbled, a hand coming up to grasp Eric’s arm as he sighed and definitely hadn’t managed a small smile, directed at Eric.

Eric would tell anyone that happened to ask about where he went that he definitely didn’t go up to Jack’s room and talk to him.

But he would be lying. He would be lying and Eric would know he would be lying and then he’d maybe tell Shitty the truth, that he went to Jack when he thought Jack truly needed it and sat with him and talked to him and stayed with him. He would tell someone because the thought of lying about something like that just didn’t sit right with him.

His feelings on Kent Parson were so conflicted.

One side of Eric said that Kent was bad, because he obviously hurt Jack in the past (even though Eric didn’t  _ know _ their past since it wasn’t any of his business). That part wanted to see Kent Parson as a villain, because wasn’t that what he was? The guy that had hurt his Captain, and when someone hurt one of them they hurt all of them, even though the others didn’t know Jack’s history with Kent.

But the other side…

The other side recognized something Eric didn’t understand. When he was near Kent he had felt… at ease. Like being close alone had brought him to sobriety almost, because something about Kent reminded him of his family in Georgia, less in the Bittle way and more in the familial comfort way. Kent had smiled at him, something genuine and easy, and when he had agreed to take a photo with Eric he had felt happier than usual.

There was something about Kent Parson that reminded Eric of a brother he’d never had, the vibe coming off of him exuding love almost. Eric didn’t understand why, but he felt almost like he could… trust Kent.

And that was truly the most confusing thing of all.

*~*~*

It was after he had baked several pies and disappeared up to his room the next day (after cleaning his kitchen because there was no way he was leaving it so disgusting) that Eric tuned into the Aces game, wanting to know more about Kent Parson and his playing. It was interesting to watch but Eric wasn’t really surprised that Kent was fast and played hard; he was a professional after all.

That wasn’t really what caught Eric’s attention, though. What caught his attention was the post-game interview, where Kent talked to some of the reporters. It started off like any interview, talking about his shots during the game, his time in the penalty box, a risky play that stuck with the refs.

And then a reporter asked why he played the game so hard that night.

“Well…” Kent cleared his throat. “There’s someone I met last night who I wanted to dedicate my playing to. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but he’s one of the closest people I have, even if he doesn’t know.”

That sparked a new line of questions; Who was this person? How did Kent know him? Did they spend time together before the draft? Was it Jack Zimmermann? Was it a lover?

Kent answered the questions as best he could without giving away too many details. Eric watched the interview and had come to the same conclusion as the other reporters for a moment, that the person Kent was talking about had to have been Jack. Eric didn’t know why, but thinking that made him a little sad. He tried to push the thoughts away, because of course Kent might dedicate a game to his old… whatever Jack was to him.

Eric wasn’t anything to Kent except a fan. Why would he hope that Kent might be talking about him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! Feedback is always appreciated. Chapters might include POVs from more than one character, like this one. There is more to come.
> 
> ~Piehead


	3. Oops, A Coin Has Three Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We assume a coin has only two sides. Little do we know, there are actually three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope things get better, Jes, and I hope this cheers you up :(

Jack took one look at Eric Bittle his junior year and immediately recognized something familiar about him. His entire appearance reminded him too much of someone he thought he had forgotten in his past and his hockey style wasn’t much different. Blonde hair, eyes that seemed to be more than one color, on the small side, fast. The only difference Jack noted immediately was Bittle’s fear of being checked, and somehow that difference pissed him off more than anything else about Bittle.

In his mind he would think about how the person Bittle reminded him off took checks like they were nothing, would get slammed into and still get back up to keep playing. Jack had thought Bittle might be related to the person he thought about, but seeing the way Bittle would seize up when someone even came near him? It had almost made him laugh at the mere notion of him being related to Kent.

The more Jack got to know Bittle, however, the more different and alike he saw that they were. He had wanted to deny it; to say that Bittle and Kent were so different that nothing about them could possibly relate to one another. But the fact of the matter was that Bittle had more in common with Kent than Jack had first assumed, though it was their differences that had Jack seeing Bittle as something so much better.

Bittle was a mother hen, there was no doubt about that. He got on the others when they weren’t taking care of themselves and he baked for them and he cleaned up when he wasn’t even really asked to, and he did it all because he wanted to take care of his team. He cheered everyone on when he was on the bench and he had his teammates backs when he was in games. There was no denying any of that, and those were some of the ways Bittle was like Kent.

But Bittle took those traits and he redefined them. He went out of his way at times to help his friends and he spent so much time together with them it was like they were all one huge family―and they  _ were _ a family. Jack had just been too thick-headed to let Bittle in, even though everyone else could see how well they worked together.

It took so long for Jack to let Bittle in, because he was afraid that he was making a mistake, like he had with Kent. Kent was the first person he’d had some semblance of a relationship with and even though that summer before the draft had been so wonderful, Jack had known that their relationship wasn’t a good one. He never talked to Kent about how he felt and Kent moved too fast at times, taking Jack by surprise and sometimes causing him to shut down. They weren’t compatible with one another.

Bittle was patient with him. More patient than anyone else and very likely more patient with Jack than Jack deserved. He would admit that he had tried to get Bittle to quit at one point, working him so hard at practice and being a little more rough than necessary during checking clinics in an effort to make Bittle  _ want _ to leave. But every single time Jack tried to push him down, Bittle got back up to keep going, and it was that perseverance that truly set Bittle apart from Kent.

Yes, Kent could be just as persistent, but his reasons had always seem to be because he wanted to be the best. Bittle’s persistence was to make himself better and by extension the team better, because becoming a better player meant strengthening the team. That’s what made them so different, and it was how Jack figured out to distinguish between the two.

Bittle reminded Jack of Kent, yes, but Bittle and Kent were two completely separate entities, and Jack did his best to remember that before it became natural for him to remember it.

Seeing Kent at Epikegster had brought forth memories he hadn’t wanted to relive, but he had made the assumption that Kent would try to say something to  _ him _ during the party. But when Kent’s eyes landed on Bittle, his attention seemed to redirect completely, Jack falling out of his mind easily as he seemed to be intrigued by Bittle instead.

The thing was, Jack knew Kent almost as well as Kent knew himself, if not better. He caught the subtle way Kent’s breath seemed to hitch when he saw Bittle, he noticed how Kent’s stance was so open, he could hear  _ something _ in Kent’s voice when he asked for a photo with Bittle as well. And it was  _ that photo _ that really left Jack confused. Why would Kent ever want a photo with Bittle? Someone he had only just met? ‘To remember his fans’ Jack’s ass.

Jack didn’t tell Bittle that night when Bittle came to his room, but Jack felt like Kent… liked Bittle. In the way Kent had liked Jack, but somehow different. It was that thought that made him bring his hand up to grip Bittle’s arm, as if to keep him there with him and not let him go.

It didn’t mean much, but it meant more to Jack than he would ever let on.

*~*~*

When Eric was eight years old, he got into an argument with one of his cousins. It was a child’s argument over something dumb Eric couldn’t quite remember, but there was something in the conversation that had always stuck with him, even after his cousin had apologized and offered him cookies and candies to make sure he didn’t go telling their parents what was said. Two little words could change a lot about a person’s life.

“You’re adopted!” his cousin had shouted in her fit of anger, mad as she was at Eric for whatever reason they were fighting. Eric had shot back the same insult, because that’s what kids did, and he had assumed it was something bad.

Eric didn’t know what that meant until he was ten years old, watching older movies and Annie had come on. He saw how different Annie was from other kids and he wondered what it could mean about himself. He loved his momma and dad more than anything else in the world, but he needed to know what it meant for his cousin to say those words.

He worked up the courage to find out one night at dinner, when the question was at the back of his throat and he could go no longer without knowing.

“Am I… adopted?” he had asked his parents. Everything at the dinner table seemed to grind to a complete halt at his small question, and Eric felt like he had done something terribly wrong.

“Oh, baby,” his mother had looked so sad, but she reached a hand over to take his into hers. His father looked resigned, because he had known the day would eventually come when they had to tell Eric the truth.

And the truth was what they told, that Eric had been born prematurely, that his birth parents couldn’t keep him, that they had tearfully given Eric away but had loved him so fiercely and passionately that they wouldn’t have let Eric go to anyone less loving than the Bittles, since Suzanne couldn’t get pregnant. Eric listened and did his best to comprehend and understand; he wasn’t his parents’ biological child but he was still their son and they loved him more than anything else in the world.

It was comforting, knowing the truth, but it of course made Eric wonder about his birth parents; he made up scenarios in his head about them some nights before he went to sleep, wondering if they would have loved him like his parents did, imagining them coming back for him some day and him having to choose between his momma and dad and them.

Some nights he didn’t think about them at all. He went to sleep and his dreams brought forth nothing but comfort and a steady heartbeat he always assumed was his own. He was never completely sure because he knew someone was holding him curled up against them, so maybe it was always their heartbeat instead?

Whatever the case, Eric understood that his birth parents couldn’t keep him, so as far as he was concerned Richard and Suzanne Bittle were his real parents. He figured his birth parents hadn’t wanted to give him up but circumstance had forced them too, so he couldn’t blame them for having to give him away. He wouldn’t change a thing about his life, because he was happy being a Bittle and having a family that loved him more than anything.

Kent Parson was a new variable and Eric didn’t entirely understand why.

Over the winter break after Epikegster, Eric found his mind wandering back to his fantasies and dreams as a child, though it was only one dream in particular. The dream of the heartbeat, with him pressed against someone, listening this time and confirming for him that it was always someone else’s heartbeat. The dream now, however, seemed to consist of Eric being held in someone’s arms as they seemed to float in darkness, his head pressed to the person’s chest. Eric would look up to see who was holding him, but the face would be blurry, out of focus. All he could make out was blonde hair.

The dreams left him confused and he tried to shake them, but something always seemed a bit off to him. He always felt like it was a person he knew, not personally but in a way that also  _ was _ personally. It didn’t make sense, but Eric didn’t know how to understand it.

*~*~*

Kent asked himself again and again how he was going to approach the topic of telling Eric he was his brother.

A google search and a few phone calls to his parents told him that Richard and Suzanne Bittle were the names of the couple that had adopted Eric into their family. He had known he recognized the name; Bittle was something he’d heard once or twice in the hospital when he was a child. It had always lingered at the back of his mind and he had assumed with age that someone was just always saying “bitter” wrong. He knew now that wasn’t the case.

Was he supposed to go down to Georgia and talk to the Bittles? Should he go back to Samwell and wait for Eric to return from his break? How did he even start that line of conversation? ‘Oh, hello, Eric, I know we’ve only met once but I’m actually your long lost older brother and I just want to say that I missed you so much.’

That wasn’t going to work. It just seemed too far fetched to Kent; he didn’t think it was a good way to approach the topic. No, he needed to figure something else out, find a different way to tell Eric that they were related, something with more tact and less sudden emotion, because Kent was liable to break down in front of Eric the next time he saw him, because it would be a reminder that Eric was alive and well and―

―going to school with Jack.

Kent had forgotten that Jack was an obstacle he needed to overcome as well. There was no way Jack was going to let Kent in close to really speak to Eric; he had seen the look in Jack’s eye when he was talking to Eric. It was something he recognized but couldn’t place, as if Jack himself didn’t know what it was yet and therefore couldn’t really be anymore out there with it until he did.

How was Kent supposed to talk to Eric when Jack would be like a wall between them? As he asked himself this Kent really wished he and Jack hadn’t split up in the way that they had. Instead of being on amicable terms they wouldn’t speak to each other; he hadn’t even kept up his promise of calling Jack and they both knew he wouldn’t have.

Kent just wanted to be at his brother’s side again. Now that he knew Eric was alive and well it suddenly  _ hurt _ more than ever to be apart from him. Kent hated each day he wasn’t with Eric, because it was another day he was failing as an older brother and protector.

He booked a flight back to Massachusetts after the Aces won their game in Vegas.

*~*~*

Fate could be a fickle mistress when she wanted to be. She could twist events in any way she wanted to suit her desires, whether it be to cause a woman to go into labour three months early or coax a young man into taking one more pill than he needed and causing a deadly reaction. But she could also be kind when she wanted, and work miracles beyond anyone’s belief. No one knew that better than Kent Parson.

He thought that when he got off his plane in Massachusetts and spotted a familiar head of blonde hair in the crowd moving away from another gate. He recognized the person so easily and immediately that he had to move quickly to catch up to them, his duffel bag of weekend clothes (he would only have a weekend before he had to go back, and he needed to use this weekend to tell Eric the truth) slung on his shoulder.

“Eric!” he called, “Eric!”

Eric Bittle realized he was being called, and looked back to find Kent Parson waving him down. He bristled; how was he supposed to act around Kent? He went to war within his own mind, part of it saying that he needed to get rid of Parson, because he hurt Jack and nobody was allowed to hurt Jack. The other part said to be reasonable, that Kent would never hurt him and that Kent just wanted to be close. The second part still didn’t make sense to Eric, but he settled for middle ground; don’t be too close, but also not too distant.

“Kent Parson!” Eric managed to smile, because he was a southern boy with manners.

“Hey,” Kent smiled back, out of breath from running to catch up with Eric. Or at least that’s why he would say he was out of breath; he wouldn’t admit until years later that he was out of breath because of Eric’s smile, a smile he had only seen twice and needed to see more of, because it was Kent’s job to put smiles on Eric’s face.

“What’re you doin’ here? I thought you’d be celebratin’ your win after last night,” Eric said for conversation, before realizing that he maybe shouldn’t mention that he had been watching Kent’s games.

He reconsidered that when Kent’s face seemed to absolutely light up, his eyes widening a fraction and his smile growing into a wide grin.

“You watched my game?” Kent asked, and he suddenly found himself thinking  _ why didn’t I play harder last night and make him proud? _

“Oh, uh, well.” Eric cleared his throat, “It was on so I figured I may as well watch. You’re a real good player.”

That had Kent positively beaming. He continued walking beside Eric, though his arm twitched to reach out and pull Eric into a hug.

They chatted about the game while Eric picked up his luggage from baggage claim, all the way out into the parking lot. A car was waiting to take Kent to his hotel, but he didn’t leave until he knew Eric was going to get back to Samwell safely.

“Do you need a ride? I don’t mind having the driver drop you,” Kent asked, worry clear in his tone. Eric wondered where it had come from, but it made his heart feel warm that Kent would offer.

“Goodness, no, it’s alright!” At some point the part of Eric that had said get rid of Parson had shrunk quite a bit, and the other part had grown, telling him to enjoy Kent’s company while he still could. Something kept saying he wouldn’t be there forever, and that made Eric a little sad for some reason.

“Is it too much to ask that you call or text me when you get to Samwell?” Kent hoped he wasn’t overstepping. He would hate to make Eric uncomfortable.

“You sound like my momma,” Eric laughed, but he pulled out his phone, not noticing the way Kent’s eyes softened and regret flickered in them for a moment, before disappearing. He put his number in and then sent himself a text, making sure that he had Eric’s number as well. Eric saw him off and then went to wait for the Samwell Shuttle like so many others.

It was while he was riding the bus that he realized he now had Kent Parson’s phone number, and had pretty much been mother-henned. Usually he hated it, but somehow when it was Kent Parson, it seemed pretty okay.

Eric had no idea how happy doing it had made Kent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback~! It is always much appreciated. This story is going to follow something of an odd timeline; things are going to go down over the course of this weekend.
> 
> ~Piehead


	4. In Building One Bridge We Tear Down Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when you build one bridge you have to tear down another. One open door means a million closed ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is kicking my ass but I still find time to write. Jes, I've got angst coming for you.

Upon reaching the Haus and getting situated in his room (after doing a few squats with Ransom) Eric remembered the promise he had made before leaving the airport. He pulled out his phone, pulling up a new text conversation and typing in a short message, telling Kent he was safely back at Samwell. Not even a few minutes later, there was a reply.

**Kent P.** : Glad to know you're safe :)

It was a short reply, something that Kent hadn't really  _ needed _ to send after Eric had told him he was fine. But he  _ had  _ sent it, telling Eric he was happy that he was back at the Haus safe and sound. It was strange the way it warmed Eric’s heart to know that Kent Parson had been worried about him. It was… strange. But comforting, especially since it practically opened up the doorway to conversation.

He shot back a chirp, asking if Kent always texted college sophomores to check up on them. He didn't know why, but it came so easily that he hadn't realized what he'd said until the message was sent and he received a capitalized ‘LOL’ followed by Kent saying he only checked up on the ones that looked small enough to be blown away by the winter wind.

It was easy conversation and the banter flowed between them smoothly. Before long, Eric realized he and Kent had been texting for an hour. Their conversation consisted of occasional chirping but mainly Kent asking Eric about his college life; how he was adjusting, what he liked best, his major. It was some of the easiest conversation he'd ever had, and he talked to Shitty on a daily basis.

He shot a quick, “Gotta go bake!” text at Kent and then headed out of his room and down the stairs. After the flight from Georgia back to Massachusetts he had been itching to bake another pie, but he had gotten so caught up in talking to Kent that the kitchen slipped his mind a bit. His phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced down to see that Kent had asked him what he was baking, which led to Eric launching into an explanation on the different types of goods he enjoyed making.

He was in his phone when he walked into the kitchen, where Ransom and Holster were sitting at the table discussing the merits of lingerie. They barely glanced up at him; Bitty being on his cellphone wasn’t an uncommon sight. He was typically buried in his phone most days, tweeting and texting whomever.

“I’m just saying, Rans, you walk in and see someone in ruffles and lace and it’s like, boom, instant boner,” Holster was saying.

“The babydoll is simplistic, you can’t top it!” Ransom countered.

Bitty rolled his eyes and shook his head at their debate, texting Kent and telling him that his Hausmates were discussing sexy underwear. He placed his phone down, even though it had already buzzed, to get to work on baking a key lime pie. He was also planning on making a lemon meringue pie, but he’d had to pick one before he started on them. When he was home he’d sent his brulee torch up ahead of time so as not to worry about getting it through customs on the plane.

Kent sent another message and Bitty’s phone buzzed with it, which led to Bitty being  _ very _ tempted to unlock it and see what Kent said, positive of it being a chirp since the last thing Bitty had left Kent with was the mention of Ransom and Holster’s conversation. Bitty could already tell Kent was the type to tease at any turn and he enjoyed the way things between them seemed almost sibling-like, even if Bitty had only been texting him for a little over an hour or so.

It was different and he enjoyed how easy it was.

*~*~*

Jack easily noticed the way Bittle was in his phone more than usual. And that said quite a bit because Bittle was  _ always _ on his phone; tweeting or looking things up or texting people. The only thing he did more often than being on his phone was baking pies, if that were even possible. Jack wasn’t entirely sure.

He knew, however, that he didn’t like the way Bittle stared at his phone, waiting for another text and then let out loud, barely stifled giggles at whoever was making jokes for him. Jack wanted to see who could get Bittle to laugh like that and know what they were saying to him. It wasn’t like he particularly cared about who put that large smile on Bittle’s face or who those fond eyes would be directed at if they were sitting across from him. He was just curious.

He didn’t get a chance to look and see who it was until Bittle jumped up from the table when his timer went off for another pie in the oven. Jack didn’t normally try to pry, but he glanced over to see the name at the top of the screen.

_ Kent Purrson _ was at the top of the screen, and apparently the two of them were having a rather in depth conversation about cats. Kent’s last message was something that said “If I’m Kent Purrson then doesn’t that make you Furic Bittle?” with a few of the laughing emojis. Right above that message, Bittle had said that he was changing Kent’s name in his phone.

Seeing the conversation shouldn’t have bothered Jack the way it did, especially since Bittle wasn’t… anything to him. They were nothing more than friends, Jack and Bittle, two people that enjoyed spending time with one another occasionally and chirping each other. They weren’t anything more than that, just two guys that enjoyed spending time together.

So why did Jack feel more than a little betrayed that Bittle was texting Kent so much? It was clear that they had been talking for a while; Bittle was already comfortable chirping him and whatnot. They talked and everything looked like it was so  _ easy _ for them when Jack hadn’t been able to talk to Bittle regularly for almost a year. He didn’t know what about Kent made things so much easier for Bittle, but it made Jack so…  _ upset. _

Bittle had placed the pie on a rack to cool and returned to his seat at the kitchen table looking at his phone. He bumped his knee against Jack’s, smiling playfully because he was in  _ such _ a good mood. Jack would have indulged him if he hadn’t known  _ why _ and  _ who _ put Bittle in that good mood. It wasn’t Jack. It was Kent.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” Jack decided, gathering his things. He didn’t understand why entirely but he needed to be away from Bittle; away from his infectious smile and nice laugh and-

“Oh,” Bittle’s face fell. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

Jack couldn’t help it. He smiled at Bittle. “Four am sharp, Bittle.”

And then he disappeared up the stairs to his room, the last thing in his mind the fond smile  _ he _ had put on Bittle’s face instead of Kent. It didn’t last long, though, because he then heard Bittle let out a laugh, and he was reminded that there was someone else, specifically Kent Parson, making Bittle  _ happy _ . It left his stomach feeling wrong and he went to bed anxious.

*~*~*

Kent stared down at the message he had sent before Eric had gone to class. He stared at it for so long, as if willing it to unsend but knowing that it was already gone, because the timestamp beneath the message said “Delivered!” The message had gone through and there would be no taking it back. He had made his bed; now he needed to lie in it.

It was such a short and simple message; it could easily be mistaken for something else and not at all what Kent had meant it as. An invitation to a late lunch, an offer Kent had put on the table when Eric had mentioned being hungry after skipping breakfast with the team for a reason he had yet to disclose. He didn’t want Eric to think this invitation to dinner was a date; it most certainly wasn’t. The thought of going on a date with his little brother made Kent want to puke a bit, but he resisted that urge easily.

It had been two hours; Eric’s class had let out. Kent was so stressed out about the text that he nearly dropped his phone when Eric sent back a reply. It seemed confused, but interested.

**Furic Bittle** : Like… as a date? (ﾟﾍﾟ)

Kent had gotten used to Eric’s use of little faces easily, and had even started mirroring them back at Eric at convenient points in the conversation.

Kent immediately shot back a text stating that it most definitely  _ wasn’t _ a date and then hesitated when he typed out a second message saying that Eric was like a brother to him. He didn’t know if he could send that just yet, but his thumb had already pressed send by the time he realized that maybe he shouldn’t send it.

For a beat, there was nothing, and Kent thought that he had royally fucked up somehow, but then there was a quick text sent back.

**Furic Bittle** : Oh! Okay, meet me in fifteen? Did you need directions?

Kent felt a wave of relief wash through him. He told Eric that no, he didn’t need directions, he would just meet him at the Haus. He had learned within their first fifty texts that Eric would correct him if he said “House” and Eric continually threatened to steal his phone and change the auto corrections to make sure house always became “Haus.”

Fifteen minutes later, he rolled up to the Haus in a Nissan Sentra (he tried to go for something less flashy than the last time he was in Massachusetts so they wouldn’t be followed or talked to). Bitty spotted him from his window upstairs and waved, letting Kent know that he had been seen. He kept his shades on and the tinted windows up, hoping no one would notice him. As far as anyone was concerned he was just a friend waiting for Eric.

A minute later Eric bounded down the steps of the Haus and got into the passenger’s side of the car. Kent smiled at him.

“What took you so long?” he asked as he pulled off from the curb to take them to one of the few restaurants he was familiar with on the east coast.

“Not all of us roll out of bed lookin’ like a million bucks, Mr.  _ Purrson, _ ” Eric snorted, making Kent’s smile turn into a grin.

“Keep chirping me like that and I’ll trap you in a jar.” The threat was empty, playful. Eric scoffed, waving his hand at Kent. It was so obvious that their dynamic was sibling like; Eric didn’t know how he could’ve thought Kent wanted a date.

“Oh, ha ha. Comin’ for my height as if you’re any taller than me.” The way they bantered back and forth was so wonderful, so nice to have. Kent felt a bit of resentment building in his stomach for his parents having forced him to miss out on this. It was so wonderful and he felt so at ease talking to Eric.

Before he knew it, they reached the restaurant and they were being seated. All through dinner they talked about anything and everything, yet nothing at all at the same time. Eric asked about the Aces and how Kent thought they were going to finish their season, Kent mentioned maybe coming to a few of the Samwell games when he could. They talked about Eric’s grades and general disdain for math but also his enthusiasm for helping people.

They had finished eating and Kent was paying for the check before he even realized that he had never gotten to the most important part of the conversation.

“Hey, Eric…” Kent started. Eric glanced up from the dessert Kent had convinced him to order, an eyebrow raised and an inquisitive smile on his face.

“Hm?” The look on Eric’s face was so innocent, Kent wanted to go home and ask his parents why they would ever give up this amazing boy. He already knew the answer, however, and he knew it wasn’t fair to them because they hadn’t been able to keep Eric without forcing Kent to grow up out of house and home as well.

The guilt rising in his belly stopped the original question on his tongue, leading Kent to just smile as the waiter brought back the check.

“You still never told me why you missed lunch,” he said, completely deviating from his original question.

Eric’s face fell a bit and Kent wanted to punch himself. To see that expression dampened for even a moment felt like the air was knocked out of him and made him want to get rid of whoever was making Eric upset.

“Can you keep a secret?” Eric asked suddenly. Kent tilted his head a bit.

“Yeah, why?” a secret locked away in the back of Kent’s mind jangled around a bit in it’s chest, but he tamped down on it immediately. Even with all of the things he had gone through with the person that secret belonged to, he would  _ never _ mention it to anyone else without their express permission.

“It’s… Jack isn’t talking to me, and he doesn’t know I’ve been talking to you, or at least I think he doesn’t. I’m gonna wait a few days to see if he gets better, because he gets in these moods. I just wanted to tell someone, and I know the history you and Jack have, but I feel like I can trust you, as crazy as that sounds and―” Eric was rambling on and on, and Kent was listening, don’t get him wrong. His mind was just caught on the fact that Eric  _ trusted _ him, even though he knew about his and Jack’s history.

“―thank you for listening,” Eric finished with a tiny sigh, his dessert mostly finished but forgotten now. Kent smiled his bright smile and wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders in a hug; a risky move.

He knew Eric hadn’t been expecting it, but when he felt Eric lean into the embrace a bit, Kent’s heart practically soared.

“You can always talk to me, Er. I promise I’ll always be here when you need me.”

Those were words Kent wished he had said when they were young, but he’d have to make do with saying them now. Eric’s responding smile was pure radiance, and Kent really hoped Eric knew how much Kent meant his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback if you can~! It's always helpful.
> 
> ~Piehead


	5. But We Span Our Gaps Without Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We don't always need bridges to cross gaps. Through one open door is a thousand more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice how I always update late at night EST? It's because I don't know how to sleep and this is the only time I have to write. @Jes this is the last pass before I shatter our hearts to pieces for a bit.

That summer was like a dream. Everything about it was so wonderful and perfect, sometimes Kent thought it had never actually happened. He always felt like it had never happened, until he looked down at his phone and saw an old faded photograph of a lake, something he had found when going through his things. It was a reminder of what once was, a good time in Kent’s life. He kept because it was a good memory, something to keep the bad ones at bay.

He remembered that day at the lake vividly. He and Jack were swimming and chasing each other around in good fun. Kent splashed whenever Jack got too close but had squealed when Jack finally caught and grabbed him, hoisting him back in the water. Their laughter was the only thing all around them and Kent had honestly felt like the luckiest person in the world.

When they had dried off and gone into the lake house Kent had noticed pictures of Jack’s relatives with their kids. Two boys, one clearly older than the other, though the age gap couldn’t have been too wide. Maybe five or six years at most. It had brought Kent’s mind to his own family and the missing member. It had already been a little over two weeks since Kent had been plagued with his yearly nightmare; now his mind was brought back to it and the person it focused on.

“You got any siblings, Jack?” Kent asked as he finally turned away from the photos. Jack was in the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge a bit before emerging with two bottles of water.

“No,” Jack answered plainly. He came over and handed one of the water bottles to Kent, who took it gratefully and then followed behind him to the couch and large TV. Jack sat down first and Kent made himself comfortable in Jack’s lap.

“Did you ever  _ want  _ siblings?” Kent asked, looking up at Jack from the crook of his neck. Jack didn’t really respond for a moment, flipping through TV channels a bit.

“It might have been nice.” Jack looked down at Kent. “What’s wrong, Kenny?”

Contrary to popular belief, Jack Zimmermann could be emotionally perceptive at times. It was a rare occurrence but it did happen, and Kent had felt somewhat bad for the way he squirmed a bit in Jack’s lap before turning around fully to straddle Jack. The TV was completely forgotten as Jack placed his hands on Kent’s hips, Kent’s arms wrapped around his neck.

“I…” Kent didn’t know what to say. “It’s nothing.”

Kent put on a smile, trying to seem like everything was okay, but Jack’s droopy eyes were filled with concern and Kent knew that Jack wanted him to at least try talking to him.

“Kenny…” Jack’s drawl of his name made Kent feel bad.

“I have to find someone,” Kent blurted out. “Someone important to me.”

A curious look crossed Jack’s features. “Who?”

Jack wanted to know. Who could be so important to Kent that Kent felt the need to search for them? Jack figured they had to be a lucky person, whoever it was. To have Kent Parson looking for them was truly a good thing, since Jack thought Kent was a wonderful person.

“You’ll find them,” Jack said suddenly, smiling.

Kent felt butterflies in his stomach at seeing that smile, and he leaned in to give Jack a quick kiss. One led to two, and two into four, and before they knew it they were lying on the couch, trying to catch their breath and listening to the sound of each other taking in oxygen, both of them shaking as they came down from a hormonal high.

Kent clung tight to Jack, fingers twisting in the fabric of Jack’s shirt, listening to the sound of Jack’s slowing heartbeat. His mind went to his baby brother, and that one perfect week in the hospital, when his little brother would listen to Kent’s heartbeat and fall asleep when he was at his fussiest. He wondered if his brother could sleep right now, without Kent’s heartbeat beneath his ear?

Had Kent ever truly been able to sleep afterwards, without the weight of his brother against his chest?

*~*~*

What would he even say?

Back in Las Vegas once again, Kent passed his living room and tried to figure out what exactly he was going to do. How was he supposed to tell Eric they were related? Was he just supposed to blurt it out in the middle of conversation? Tell Eric over text? His mind kept coming up with all the different ways it could go wrong and it wasn’t helping his mental psych.

One scenario went where he told Eric in person. He sat Eric down over a meal and they talked for a bit about miscellaneous things before Kent finally stirred the conversation around to tell Eric that twenty years ago he was in a hospital in Georgia, by Eric’s side as a big brother like he was supposed to be, and then their parents had to give Eric up to the Bittles because they couldn’t keep him.

It was the only scenario that didn’t end disastrously in Kent’s mind. Whereas others ended with Eric assuming Kent was playing some cruel trick on him to get close to Jack (who most certainly was not a priority in Kent’s mind currently), that one ended with Eric seeing the sincerity on Kent’s face but being upset about his birth parents giving him up and Kent not finding him sooner and completely rejecting him from his life. Eric wouldn’t say it outright but Kent would be able to tell that Eric didn’t want to see him again.

It had been the first idea he’d had and each one afterwards had gotten more and more outrageous and ended even worse than the last. Kent was at the point where he was starting to think that he just  _ shouldn’t _ tell Eric they were related and hope Eric let him be apart of his life for the next seventy or so years.

But his conscience told him that Eric deserved to know the truth. Both of them deserved some sort of closure; Kent because Eric was his only brother and Eric because he didn’t know anything about the family he could have had. Even if Eric didn’t want anything to do with Kent afterwards, he deserved to know.

But how was he going to tell Eric? He had come so close to just texting “We’re brothers” but each and every time he had restrained himself from actually pressing send. Each time he had a different excuse (“this is out of context” “It’s just so random” “I need to tell him in person”) and he simply wouldn’t do it. And when he’d had the chance to do it in person, he just hadn’t, his own mind stopping him from doing so over lunch a week ago.

How could he even be sure he would be a good brother? He never had any siblings. All he’d had was other people his age, maybe a year or two younger. He didn’t know if he would even be able to help Eric when he had problems, didn’t know if Eric would want to confide those problems in him or anything of that nature. If he told Eric the truth, how was he to know if he could even  _ be _ that loving, helpful, brother he had always wanted to be for Eric?

Kent stopped pacing looked at his phone. The last message was a goodnight text from Eric, who had finally gone to bed. He took in a breath.

“Next time, Parson. You’ll tell him.”

But Kent didn’t know if he would hold true to that.

*~*~*

It was unfair, Jack knew, but somehow it just… hurt, that Bittle was texting Kent so much. Jack knew it was stupid. Bittle could text whoever he wanted and it shouldn’t affect Jack at all, because Bittle was an adult and knew how to text responsibly. It wasn’t any of Jack’s business who Bittle decided to text and why and how and where they went that Monday when Jack wasn’t talking to Bittle and Bittle had skipped team breakfast. None of that was Jack’s business.

But he wanted to know, part of him did at least. He wanted to know why Kent was suddenly talking to Bittle, what they had to do with one another and where they had gone as well as how Kent had made Bittle so happy when Kent dropped Bittle off at the Haus again after going Lord knows where.

It wasn’t fair to Bittle, though, and Jack knew it from the moment he had taken a single look at him and ignored the tiny smile Bittle had given him. He knew it wasn’t fair. Whatever Bittle talked to Kent about made Bittle smile and, even though Kent was the type to do things that seemed a little shady in hockey at times, he would never try to get to Jack through someone else. Kent wasn’t underhanded like that off the ice.

Still, Jack felt like he played some role in Bittle talking to Kent so much. He just couldn’t place how it was his fault other than being at Samwell at the same time as Bittle and practically helping them meet at the EpiKegster. He wonders what could have happened if Bittle hadn’t been there; what would Kent have said to him? Jack knew he would never know now.

He kept up the checking clinics with Bittle, still wanting to help him get better, but there was less conversation now aside from repeatedly telling Bittle to get up so they could go again. Bittle looked dejected when he left those practices, because Jack hardly said any words to him and Jack could figure out for himself that Bittle smiled less when Jack was being an ass. And Jack  _ knew _ he was being an ass.

He knew he needed to stop, because they were making such  _ good _ progress in their friendship and he recognized that continuing to act the way he was could severely set them back. It had taken him so long to open up to Bittle and now he was seriously pushing their friendship back by being upset over Kent Parson. Why couldn’t he let things go? Why was Kent still making him upset after so much time apart?

What did Bittle see in him?

*~*~*

It was obvious in Eric’s texts that something was bothering him. Kent knew it from the moment he sent a picture of his cat to Eric and the only response he received was “She’s adorable” with no exclamation marks or emotes. He wasn’t sure if it was some sort of brotherly instinct that led him to ask what was wrong or if it was just the fact that he was starting to know Eric better, but whichever was the case he wanted to help.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Kent Purrson:** What’s wrong?

**Furic Bittle:** It’s nothing too serious…

**Kent Purrson:** On a scale of forgotten homework to Bittle Jam feud how bad is it?

**Furic Bittle:** I think it says quite a bit about how much we’ve been talking that those are the ends of your scale (;⊙︿⊙)

**Kent Purrson:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Kent Purrson:** You gonna tell me what’s wrong though?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There was no reply for a few minutes and Kent felt like he had pushed a little too hard. He was starting to regret the message when Eric shot back another text, which seemed to be him opening up about whatever problem he was having.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Furic Bittle:** Remember when I missed breakfast and we went out to lunch?

**Kent Purrson:** Of course I do

**Furic Bittle:** Well… Jack still isn’t talking to me…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kent felt his ire rise at the thought of Jack treating Eric as anything less than the amazing ray of sun he was. He knew Jack likely still had his head up his ass about Kent visiting but Kent had assumed that Jack would be over it by now. Why was he still acting the way he was?

The next few text messages they shot back and forth were about how Jack had been distant, and the way he wouldn’t look Eric in the eye, and how he avoided being in the same room as Eric now, and Kent listened to Eric’s dilemma, his mind wrapping around the issues and already trying to work out a solution.

This was the best opportunity to prove to himself that he could be a good brother. He knew Jack, or at least he had  _ known _ Jack, when they were younger, and even if they had grown and changed with age there were still some things Kent had to be able to help with about Jack and navigating his personality.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Furic Bittle:** I just don’t know what to do (╯︵╰,)

**Kent Purrson:** What do you *want* to do?

**Furic Bittle:** I *want* to be able to talk to my captain again

**Kent Purrson:** Then talk to him

**Furic Bittle:** It’s not that easy Mr. Purrson

**Furic Bittle:** He won’t even stay in the same room as me for very long

**Furic Bittle:** I don’t want it to affect our next game ( •᷄⌓•᷅ )

**Kent Purrson:** Bond with him

**Furic Bittle:** How???

**Kent Purrson:** You like baking

**Kent Purrson:** Ask him to help you out in the kitchen

**Furic Bittle:** Are you sure that’ll work?

**Kent Purrson:** Trust me on this one

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kent hoped that things would go well for Eric. The last thing he wanted was for Eric to not be able to talk to Jack. Especially if it was partly his fault.

He slipped his phone into his pocket and then headed out for practice.

Kent returned from practice later to find a single text message, the two words and simple emote enough to light up his entire day. They were proof that he could be a good brother, and they pushed him to try to figure out how he could tell Eric the truth. He wanted to be able to do this more, to help Eric with his problems and continue being someone Eric could put his trust in with no problems.

*~*~*

Bitty had left his phone upstairs. He had six pies he needed to bake in a short amount of time, and usually he got a head start on stuff like this, but he was thinking about Kent’s advice and had decided it would be best if he just used the circumstance to justify why he needed Jack to help him. If Jack felt sympathetic enough, he was sure to come help.

His plan worked.

“Jack?” Bitty had peeked into Jack’s room. The door was open and he had knocked on the frame to make sure Jack knew he was there first. “Could you help me down in the kitchen?”

A bit of alarm had crossed over Jack’s features; the kitchen was the last place they had sat and smiled and spent time together, days ago before Jack started closing himself off again. They were hardly in the kitchen at the same time now unless they needed to be, and even though Jack  _ wanted _ to be able to talk to Bitty again he didn’t know how to go about it after being as distant as he had been.

“With what?” Jack asked. Bitty fidgeted a bit where he stood.

“Well, time slipped away from me―” Not a lie, “―and I have a few pies I need to bake. I can trust you to do a good job.”

Jack studied Bitty’s face a bit before letting out a sigh and a small smile. “Okay.”

Bitty’s face lit up and they headed down the stairs to the kitchen, where Bitty set to work dictating tasks he needed down for the pies. Jack followed behind his directions to the best of his abilities, keeping up with Bitty as best he could. Bitty was appreciative for the help, and the conversation that suddenly seemed to flow easily between them again.

“I’m surprised you left your phone upstairs,” Jack chirped, though there was something hidden in his words that Bitty didn’t exactly catch.

“I’m not  _ always _ in my phone,” Bitty scoffed, defensive, “Besides, why should I be on my phone when I can spend the time with my favourite captain?”

Bitty had twirled around Jack, avoiding a kitchen check when Jack seemed to freeze momentarily, to put two of the pies in the oven. Jack looked down at the (frankly hideous) lattice of the pie he had been working on. He looked over at Bitty, who was bent over the oven making sure the pies were situated to cook properly. When Bitty looked up, he smiled at Jack, open and easy. Jack couldn’t help smiling back.

“If you say so,” he responded, a bit playful now, “Maybe this should be in The Swallow. Eric Bittle gives up tweeting to make pies with amazing hockey captain.”

Bitty threw Jack a dirty look for even  _ suggesting _ that they put this in The Swallow. The last thing he needed was the school’s gossip mill to take that and twist it into something it wasn’t.

“I don’t know if I’d use the word amazin’,” he said in response, completely ignoring the other part of Jack’s words. Jack let out a small huff of a laugh, but went back to work on his pie lattice (even though Bitty eventually came over and redid it, sending Jack to make sure his raspberry filling didn’t burn on the stove).

They passed the time like that, and while the pies were baking in the oven they sat down at the table to just talk. About practice, about class, about hockey, about anything. It was the most conversation they’d had in awhile, and when Bitty bumped his knee against Jack’s, Jack pushed back, letting him know that things were alright between them.

It made Bitty feel like the happiest person in the world.

*~*~*

**Furic Bittle:** It worked (◡‿◡)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback! Everything is appreciated, even the smallest comments <3
> 
> ~Piehead


	6. Car Crash, Whiplash, It All Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What am I supposed to do? When the best part of me was always you? I'm falling to pieces."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got the first part of two parts of angst for you, Jes. Plus, now I've only gotta write three more chapters now because chapter ten is finished! That leaves seven to nine to go.
> 
> Words in the summary from Breakeven by the Script, aka one of my fave songs about heartbreak.

It was in March when everything goes to complete shit.

Some part of Kent knew things were going too well. He _knew_ that things being _okay_ was a sign that something bad was going to happen. He had ignored it for so long, ignored that little part of his mind that kept telling him he would fuck this up, and now he was paying the consequences. He should have just listened and tried not to get too close.

 _Especially_ since he hadn’t even told Eric they were brothers yet.

*~*~*

They talked nearly every day. Kent texted or called Eric when he could, wishing him good luck before games and comforting or congratulating him after them as well. He kept his reasons for being in Boston when he left the team a secret for the most part, not wanting any of them to think he was going to spy on the Falconers in Providence when in actuality he was just visiting his little brother to make up for a lot of time lost between them.

That’s the realization that hits him as he steps off the plane in Boston. That he’s been spending so much time with Eric without telling him the truth that he starts feeling bad because he’s been lying. It’s omission, but a lie nonetheless. Eric just thinks he wants to be friends when there was something much deeper flowing between them. Eric still didn’t know that Kent was his brother, Eric still didn’t know that Kent loved him more than life itself, Eric still didn’t know that Kent would give up _so much_ for him.

Eric still didn’t know they were brothers.

EpiKegster seemed a lifetime away (he only knew it was called EpiKegster because Eric had told him), and Kent felt like he had known Eric much longer than three months. He’d been to several Samwell games, cheering on his little brother discreetly from the crowd, wearing thick sunglasses, contacts, a hat, and a heavy coat so that no one knew who he was. The only person that _always_ recognized him was Eric, and Kent felt like it had to have been the brotherly bond between them, strong and powerful.

Kent could hardly believe he got the chance to be apart of Eric’s life like this. He wanted to do so much more, to spend time with Eric on the ice, to teach him how to use that speed for more goals and less dodging, to show him more tricks of the trade, to eat pies Eric’s made (despite the fact that he couldn’t have them without his blood sugar going up) while Eric rattled on about his classes, to sit with him through his heartaches―

Kent’s mind wandered to heartaches. Eric had been hinting at something that terrified Kent a bit the last couple days; the idea of Eric having someone he was completely head over heels for. Kent knew he had a problem of sorts; he overshared with people when he got attached to them and he had already told Eric that he had loved Jack but was moving on, that he and Jack weren’t enemies but weren’t friends but all Kent wanted was to be friends again. Eric had taken it very well; he listened with a patient ear and didn’t patronize Kent when a couple tears managed to squeeze their way from his eyes.

He couldn’t let Eric fall in love with anyone before he was ready. It just wasn’t something Kent could let happen when Eric wasn’t dead set on what he wanted to do after college. No, Kent needed to protect him. He couldn’t be completely open about doing it; he needed to be discreet. If Eric found out, who knew what he would do. Worst case scenario was pulling back and away from Kent and their friendship being ruined.

His phone began buzzing like crazy when he got off the plane, a multitude of texts from teammates (“You disappeared. Again. Our illustrious Captain has abandoned us. Again.”), his parents (“You’re in Boston _again_?” “I’m starting to think you wanna be traded to the Bruins!”) and his current favourite person in the entire world, Eric. He saved the best for last, opening the texts from his parents first, and then his teammates. He sent short replies to his teammates and then a longer one with a “Love you guys” tacked on to his parents.

The texts from Eric started off fine; Eric telling Kent about his day while Kent was in the air and then Eric sending him pictures of the cats at Petco. He smiled at all the cute cats; he’d been thinking about getting Kit a little sister or brother to name Furic Bitele. He had pitched the name at Eric and the younger blonde had immediately told him no and how unclever it was. The thought made Kent smile.

But it was the final text from Eric that made Kent’s stomach lurch in all the wrong ways.

 **Furic Bittle:** Can we talk?

It was such a simple text, three words that could mean the making or breaking of the relationship between them. Kent didn’t know if he could respond, didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if he wanted to respond. He was so terrified of what this could mean; he remembered the day Jack had asked him to talk like it was yesterday. One minute Jack had called him on the hotel room phone, the next Kent was using that same phone to call for an ambulance.

Kent knew it was irrational, but he had developed a fear of having someone ask him that question or anything like it. Things couldn’t have been bad between him and Eric. Things _couldn’t_ be bad between him and Eric. Kent’s heart wouldn’t be able to take it if there was anything wrong.

He shot a quick text back asking what was wrong, and Eric responded almost immediately, as if his thumb had been poised above a message already typed out and ready to be sent.

 **Furic Bittle:** Can you meet me at Jerry’s at five?

It had to be an in-person talk. Kent’s mind kept flashing back to the scene of a hotel room, yellow walls and bright lights and a body on the floor. He shoved it down immediately, trying to remind himself that this wasn’t that time; he was going to walk into Jerry’s and Eric was going to be sitting at a table and he was going to smile and everything was going to be _fine_.

*~*~*

It was at Jerry’s when everything went to complete shit.

*~*~*

Kent had caught a cab from his hotel room to Samwell, specifically over to Jerry’s. He and Eric had gotten food together there before, after a game or for brunch. No one paid them any mind when they went in and sat down, Kent didn’t really know why. It might have been because Eric glared anyone that looked their way down or it may have been because they chose the quietest place to sit, where no one could see Kent’s face. Either way, he liked eating at Jerry’s, he liked being with Eric, he liked that things were comfortable between them.

So why did every fiber of his being scream at him to get back in the cab when Kent got out in front of Jerry’s at 4:57?

He wouldn’t know until he had gone in to their usual table, Eric already there waiting, looking nervous but excited. The expression should have _calmed_ Kent, not make him more anxious. He didn’t know what Eric could need to tell him and he wouldn’t know until Eric told him. How was he supposed to know that his whole day―Hell, his entire _life_ ―was going to be completely, utterly, and entirely ruined in the next seven minutes?

They were quiet for a beat, the sounds of other people eating and laughing and the clinking of silverware against porcelain hypnotic almost, in an uneven rhythm. Kent would have let the noises soothe his stomach if Eric hadn’t taken a deep breathe.

“I wanted to tell you,” Eric started, his hands shaking the tiniest bit, “About something I realized a long time ago.”

Kent felt his mind shift into panic mode as Eric started ranting a bit, off on a tangent about how he should’ve been truthful but waited until after Kent had told him the truth or whatever, a constant litany of “ _Heknowsheknowsheknowsheknowsheknows_ ” running through Kent’s mind. What gave him away? How did Eric find out they were related, what had Kent done or said to let it on―

“I’m in love with Jack.”

It was like a train crashing to a sudden and painful halt, an explosion of metal and glass and smoke. Then his mind went blissfully blank, unable to form coherent words for a long moment. Eric was starting to look worried with each passing second.

Then―

“No.”

It was a single word, clear, concise, two letters, one syllable. Kent couldn’t stop himself from letting it tumble from his lips, knowing that the moment he said it it was in the world and Eric heard it.

Eric’s confusion only fueled the sudden angry fire in Kent’s mind.

“What? What do you mean ‘no’?” Eric asked, his voice conveying his perplexity.

Kent’s mind was reeling and all he could think about was how _angry_ he was at himself for letting Eric fall in love with fucking _Jack_ of all people. Jack wasn’t―he wasn’t _built_ for relationships, and Kent never wanted Eric to go through what he went through with Jack. The hurt, the anger, the betrayal, the _silence_. It had all been so much, too much for Kent, and he had been in a bad place, and done some bad things, and God he didn’t want Eric to end up like he had.

“You can’t be in love with Jack. No. You can’t,” Kent said the words so resolutely it was like he had just told his younger brother they couldn’t keep the baby bird they’d found in the backyard. “You’re not allowed.”

It was the wrong choice of words.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Eric breathed, his eyes wide, and he looked… fuck, he looked so _betrayed_. Kent had just told him he wasn’t allowed to be in love, as if Eric had any choice in the matter when he most certainly _did not_. And then there was the fact that Kent was even _telling_ him this.

“You don’t get to tell me that,” Eric replied, voice cold, but Kent’s mind was just running the same sentence over and over again.

_I failed as a brother._

“You don’t understand. You wouldn’t understand,” Kent retorts, even though his mind is having it’s own meltdown and he was in no place to talk unless he was explaining himself and what he was saying and why.

“I think I understand.” Eric sounded so _hurt_ ; Kent knew he had completely fucked up. “You said you were over him. I didn’t think you would _lie,_ Kent.”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Eric had it wrong, Eric had it _so wrong_ and Kent’s mind was too clouded to properly correct him.

“That’s not―” he didn’t even get a chance to tell Eric it was wrong before Eric stood and left the restaurant so fast Kent couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He was left staring at the seat Eric had left abruptly, and he knew things were shifted between them, changed for the worst.

*~*~*

It was in March, while Kent was away from home, inside of Jerry’s, that everything went to complete shit, and he found himself broken.

*~*~*

It was in March when Bitty just felt lost beyond belief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback~ Even a few words of encouragement or thoughts are always wonderful~!
> 
> ~Piehead


	7. Hospital Care For Those Burns; Better Or Worse?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a crash the victims are rushed to the hospital to be treated. But are they getting better? Or worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to post this. Life got in the way and it managed to get buried under other CP! works. This is not my greatest chapter by far but I hit quite the roadblock with this one, so...

Kent bought the tickets to Massachusetts on impulse, like he’d been doing the last three months. It happened before he remembered that the last time he was in Samwell he and Eric fell out, and they hadn’t texted each other in over a week. He stared at the website he’s used to book his flight for several minutes, as if the times would suddenly change and say somewhere else, like Las Vegas to Antarctica. He should have cancelled them, honestly, but then what would he do? Plus Samwell had a game that weekend, and Kent had promised to be there.

Eric didn’t want him to be there, though. Kent knew he didn’t, after what Kent had said to Eric. Eric didn’t want to see him, Eric didn’t want to be near him, Eric didn’t want anything to do with Kent because Kent fucked up and it was all Kent’s fault because he couldn’t fucking communicate and it was his fault it was his fault  _ it was all his fault. _

In the middle of panicking, he received a text message; from his mother, and he remembered one of the fundamental reasons behind why he had contacted Eric. His parents never went a day without wondering how different life would be if they had been able to keep Eric. Introducing their other son to them was something Kent felt like he needed to do.

He answered the text message, managing to calm his breathing as he did so. If his mother suddenly called, as it was something she did often and out of the blue, he couldn’t be on the verge of a breakdown if she did so. The last thing Kent Parson needed was his mother asking him a billion questions about whether or not he was alright.

Samwell had a game that weekend. The thought returned to Kent as he glanced back at his laptop. He didn’t want to miss it. He had missed so many other important things in Eric’s life; his first steps, his first word, his figure skating shows, his high school games. If Kent could do nothing else, he could start being in Eric’s life, even if Eric didn’t necessarily want him there at the moment.

They were still brothers. At the end of the day, they shared a special connection. Kent needed to have more courage in himself. He had messed up their dynamic, not Jack, not Eric. He needed to own up to it.

*~*~*

Bitty wasn’t quite himself and his friends were starting to notice it. It was different in a subtle manner; he wasn’t overly obvious with the fact that something was amiss. He checked his phone less, knowing now that there wouldn’t be a text from Kent waiting for him, a chirp that would put a smile on Bitty’s face. He hadn’t unfollowed Kent’s twitter but there was virtually nothing knew on it since they had fallen out.

It was starting to hurt Bitty in a way he hadn’t realized it would. Texting Kent had become an integral part of Bitty’s day. Somehow Kent always knew what to say to lift Bitty’s mood; when he was sad or feeling upset, Kent knew how to fix it. Bitty hadn’t even known what a huge help it was until he had left a particularly grueling practice, his mood a bit sour, and went to text Kent about his day only to remember that Kent hadn’t texted him in a week.

He was starting to feel worse about things. But Bitty knew one thing was for certain; he wasn’t going to apologize. Usually he caved in pretty easily when it came to small matters. He would say he was in the wrong and he would be forgiven and they would move on. That wasn’t the case with Kent. Bitty really liked Kent, loved him almost, but Kent had tried to police Bitty’s love life. It hurt to know that Kent was still in love with Jack. He had thought something like that wouldn’t come between them.

Still, his days felt… emptier without Kent to fill in the cracks. He wondered what was going to happen during the weekend. They had planned a trip to Boston after the Samwell game to do a bit more sight seeing now that spring was around the corner. Bitty had been excited to go; he hardly ever went out to Boston.

Now… now he wasn’t sure that was even going to happen. He didn’t even know if Kent was still coming to his  _ game _ . He knew that Kent had promised and so far Kent hadn’t broken a single one of his promises, but things could change in a heartbeat, especially after their falling out. He didn’t expect Kent to be there to cheer him on, he didn’t expect Kent to meet him after the game to congratulate or cheer him up, he didn’t expect any of it.

He hoped for it. He didn’t expect it.

“You alright there, Bits?” Lardo’s worried stare caught him, and he felt a bit like a deer in headlights.

His friends were perceptive. They knew when Bitty wasn’t feeling up to par, could practically sense when he was stressed. How could he even dream of hiding anything from them?

“I’ll be fine,” he lied anyway. He knew Lardo could see past it; that everyone else knew when he wasn’t being truthful about how he felt. He wouldn’t be fine because he felt like he’d had to close off a part of himself. It all felt wrong.

“Bits hasn’t really been on his phone much lately…”

“Whatever happened I hope things get better.”

“Yeah, it’s not like Bitty to be so quiet.”

Bitty hesitated on the stairs at the last statement, because Nursey was right. He was  _ never  _ this closed off from anyone. It was so utterly out of character for him; how had Kent managed to change so much about him by not even speaking to him?

“It’s probably just stress from exams.”

It was a story Bitty would cling to, as if it were a lifeline.

*~*~*

Massachusetts was freezing and Kent found that he loved the cold air. It was different from the heat of Vegas and reminded him of his mom and dad back in Canada. They were constantly rooting for him in whatever he did, beacons of support in the dark when he lost his way. Kent loved anything that reminded him of them, the cold weather included.

Vegas was the opposite, somehow. Vegas reminded him of the heat of Georgia, and in turn it reminded him of Eric. They were contrasting feelings and thoughts and being in Vegas always brought Kent back to feeling like an inadequate brother somehow, but it always made him feel closer to Eric. He wanted to  _ be _ closer to Eric too, and the feelings he got when all the way across the country just weren’t enough.

He considered his options on the plane. He could go to Eric’s game, wish him luck, leave. Let Eric know that even though they were fighting he still loved and supported him? It seemed like something he could plausibly do, and if he was lucky he could do it while also not letting on how much he missed Eric and wanted to be near him.

“Just gotta play it cool,” Kent murmured to himself as he picked up his luggage.

_ Play it cool my ass _ , Kent thought to himself as he sped down the highway with Eric in the passenger seat of his rental, the two of them in an awkward silence ever since Kent had sent himself into a small panic attack over whether or not Eric hated him and then dragged him out of his home and then practically kidnapped him.

Jesus Christ, how the fuck did anyone let him exist? Kent found himself wondering that entirely too often for his liking, especially considering how he acted so compulsively all the time. Seriously. He should have just stayed at home with Kit and hoped for the best. Found a channel that was doing college hockey and watched the Samwell game.

But no. Kent had to be the most extra, unnecessary person on the planet and now he knew Eric hated him.

“Where are we going, Kent?” Eric finally spoke, startling Kent a bit. He didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes concentrated on the road. “ _ Kent. _ ”

“I don’t like Jack,” Kent blurted out, unable to stop himself because he felt like he had to say something. “I mean, I do, but I don’t like him how you think I do, I promise I don’t, Eric-”

“...Why are you here, Kent?” Eric asked.

Kent didn’t speak.

“Stop the car.” Eric curled up in his seat a bit, hand on the door. Kent’s foot didn’t leave the gas. “I said stop the car!”

“Dammit, Eric, I’m not gonna lose you again!” Kent finally shouted, letting the truth loose, “I’m not losing my only brother again!”

“What? Kent, what are you-?” the confusion in Eric’s voice led Kent to panic, and it all came spilling out before he could really stop himself.

“You’re a  _ Parson _ , Eric, mom and dad left you because they had to make a decision and you’re my brother and I can’t lose you again, Eric, I can’t,” he rambled, words blurring together a bit. “I can’t leave you again.”

For a beat, there was nothing, and Kent thought that he had royally fucked up.

“I wanna go back.”

The next chance he got, he turned around and took Eric back to the Haus. He said nothing when he dropped him off and he went back to his hotel. The only thing on his mind was the fact that he had, once again, ruined everything good in his life.

Why couldn’t he be less of a fuck up? Why couldn’t he be someone Eric could love and depend on?

Kent asked himself these things as he dozed into a fitful sleep that night, his dreams plagued with nightmares of empty cradles and cold hospital rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!! As I said, this isn't the best chapter overall, but we've actually got the conflict out in the open between Bitty and Kent! So, now all there is to do is solve the conflict and make our way to the resolution.


End file.
